Chanel No 5
by Adrianna-Rossetti
Summary: The only perfume Miranda wears is Chanel No. 5. Andy knows this fact rather well, because the one time she bought Miranda Joy Jean Patou perfume that she saved three month's pay for, she was rewarded by the sight of the white-haired woman giving it to Caroline...The lesson had been learned though. Don't get Miranda any perfume other than Chanel No. 5.
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by Britney Spears' and Sia's performance of _Perfume_.**

The only perfume Miranda wears is Chanel No. 5. Andy knows this fact rather well, because the one time she bought Miranda Joy Jean Patou perfume that she saved three month's pay for, she was rewarded by the sight of the white-haired woman giving it to Caroline. Andy knew her lover wasn't the most thoughtful person, but it didn't take away the sting of seeing the $800 dollar 75 ml bottle given to a 13 year old who hasn't even worn it once. The lesson had been learned though. Don't get Miranda any perfume other than Chanel No. 5.

It is a scent the brunette commits to memory, associating the smell with power, sensuality, and ultimate femininity. Her girlfriend of the past two years definitely fits-if not defines-all of those qualities. Andy sits at the vanity Miranda had boughten for herself and stares at herself in the mirror, peering deeply in her dark brown eyes. Lately, Miranda has been coming home smelling different. The unmistakable waft of Dior mixed with Chanel No. 5. produces an entirely different scent that makes the young journalist's stomach churn. Andy's not stupid. She knows this day was coming sooner or later. Miranda is finally sick of her, and found another lover. Although her heart feels like it's being ripped out of her chest, Andy stares at herself with blank eyes. Blindly, she reaches out and her fingers curve around a familiar square-shaped bottle. She lifts it and sprays some on her neck, deeply inhaling the signature scent and immediately tears up. Feeling guilty for reasons she can't explain, she gently sets the perfume back down and slowly lowers her head down to the cool countertop. Tears flow freely out of her eyes. _I've lost her._

* * *

Andy comes to the decision to ignore the scent of Dior coming from Miranda. She's too in love with the older woman to let her go. A life without Miranda would hardly be worth living. So, Andy decides to stay, no matter how much her heart clenches when Miranda stumbles in late every night reeking of that damned Dior. She misses Chanel No. 5. On those long nights by herself, Andrea douses herself in her own Hermès perfume, courtesy of Miranda from their third date after the Editor remarked that she smelled like a teenage girl in Dolce and Gabbana. She sprays the sweet smell on her neck, the insides of her wrists, and even sprays it on her hairbrush to spread the perfume in her hair. One night, Caroline comes into the room and immediately wrinkles her nose.

"Geez," she fans the air in front of her face, "what are you doing? Trying to bathe in it?"

"Sorry Caroline," Andy sets the bottle to the side. "I guess I just got over-excited. I love this scent."

"Well Mom will be happy to hear that," Caroline shrugs. "I was just wondering if you would help me with my English paper."

"Of course," Andrea stands and follows the girl back to her room.

Andy still follows the same ritual starting at 10:00 at night to whenever Miranda gets home. Spray neck, spray insides of wrists, and spray hairbrush. Repeat. When Miranda gets home, they have sex, and Andrea makes sure to rub her body all over her lover's to mark the Editor in her scent. Miranda always ends up taking shower in the morning anyways, but Andy always pretends that her little 'plan' will work. Of course it doesn't, and Miranda comes home every night smelling like Dior. The comforting scent of Chanel No. 5. has been fading night by night, and soon, the scent is gone completely.

* * *

One night, when Miranda comes home at some ungodly hour, Andrea is waiting for her with a small smile.

"Hi," she says quietly and takes her lover's coat, hanging it up in the closet. As the coat rustles slightly, the scent of Dior fills her nostrils, and she slams a mask of indifference down on her face before turning back to face the Editor.

Miranda rubs her eyes and looks exhausted. "You didn't have to wait up."

"I wanted to," Andrea shrugs. "How was Runway?"

"Fine," Miranda moves to the kitchen and the brunette follows her.

Pouring herself a glass of white wine, she rubs her neck and tilts her snowy head back. Andrea silently stands behind her and starts massaging the tense muscles. That's when she sees it. A small bite-shaped mark right behind Miranda's right ear. Her stomach drops and her arms fall limply to their sides.

"Andrea?" Miranda asks and turns her head to look at her.

Andy looks at her with pure pain in her eyes, and gestures to the mark. "You forgot to cover that up."

Miranda slaps a hand over the bruise and her eyes widen. She opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by Andrea.

"Save it. I don't want to hear anything." She's sick and tired of feeling unwanted and unloved. She feels like an idiot.

"Andrea-"

"I said, save it," Andy averts her stinging eyes. "I've known what was happening for a while now. I guess I should have done something more to prevent it. I was a stupid fool for thinking that it would work it out by itself."

"Andrea," Miranda reaches out to place her hands on Andrea's forearms, and flinches when the young woman pulls away before her palms even ghost the pale skin. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Andy looks at the woman who holds her heart in pure anger. "You're never sorry for anything."

"They were going to take away Runway again," Miranda sighs and rubs her eyes. "The stunt I pulled in Paris only bought me a year and a half. Jacqueline came back, and I needed to save my position again."

"So you slept with her," Andy's shaking from rage and slams her hand down on the table. Her heart throbs painfully and her stomach clenches as she visualizes her girlfriend and Jacqueline together. "Goddamn it Miranda. What the hell is wrong with you? You've stooped so low as to _fuck_ your way to the top?"

"I did what I had to in order to protect my job. I didn't have a choice," Miranda looks at her with cool eyes. "Runway is my life. My everything."

Andy's heart drops at those words. It is suddenly so painfully clear. She means nothing to Miranda-she is as insignificant as a clacker. "You told me everybody has a choice once," Andrea ignoring the hot tears of anger currently running down her face and steps towards Miranda, her voice getting softer and lower. "I guess I know what your choice is."

"No Andrea-" Again, Miranda reaches out to provide a physical connection, but Andy steps back with her cold mask firmly back in place.

"Don't ever touch me again," Andrea says, her voice icy and unfeeling.

She turns and walks stiffly out the door, the sound of breaking glass following her departure. When Andy walks out into the cool night, she inhales the fresh air deeply, allowing it to cleanse her nose of any remaining traces of perfume. She hates Chanel No. 5, Dior, and Hermès and vows never to smell or wear any of those scents again. A faint smile stretches across her lips, and she shoves her hands in her jean pockets as she finally walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and PM's! I've decided to continue this fic with two possible endings-this chapter will be the angst-filled ending to the story, and the next will be the happy one. Up to you to decide which one to read. :) (Also thank you to guest reviewer who gave me ideas for this meeting! I used some of your ideas, but not all :)) Inspired by You Lost Me by Christina Aguilera. Thanks for reading.**

Andy doesn't mean to stop in the café-in fact, she is on her way to an important meeting until the rain begins to fall. She covers her head fruitlessly with one hand as she hurries to open the door, barely making it in before it begins to really pour. Shivering slightly, Andy glances back out the window and smiles when she sees the rain falling heavier. She loves the rain.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle," the man behind the counter smiles at her, and Andrea grins back.

Unbuttoning her black dress coat, she smooths down her red Prada mini underneath and responds, "Bonjour." Her heels click on the hard floor as she walks over to inspect the menu closer. It's all in French, but Andy is fluent, and she rattles off what she wants with perfect enunciation. She pays for the croissant and coffee when she hears the door jingle open. Glancing over, the brunette almost dropped her breakfast at the sight of Miranda Priestly standing in the doorway looking just as shocked as Andy feels. For a moment they just look at each other, almost hungrily, drinking in the other's appearance. It's Andy who recovers first.

"Hello Miranda," she manages to get out, gripping her coffee tightly in one hand and the plate with the croissant in the other.

"Andrea," the older woman nods, still appearing shell-shocked. Andrea's heart throbs painfully when she hears her name being spoken in those soft tones again.

"On second thought," Andrea turns back to the man behind the counter and speaks lowly in French, "I will take my breakfast to go."

"Wait," Miranda says quietly, understanding every word.

Andrea looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"There's no reason to leave," Miranda opens her Gucci bag and pulls out her wallet. She orders a scalding hot coffee and turns back to Andrea. "Surely you can stay?"

Andrea's heart says no, but her traitorous voice agrees to a civil breakfast. The two women sit at a table by an open window. They're the only ones in the café, save for the man behind the counter, and an awkward silence descends over them. Soft French classical music is playing from the speakers, and Andrea nibbles at her croissant while Miranda sips her coffee.

"Debussy has always been one of my favorites," Miranda comments out of the blue, referring to the music.

"Yeah," Andrea swallows the bite she was chewing before continuing. "Mine too. Clair de Lune is beautiful. When I was 17, I learned how to play it on the piano."

"Ah," Miranda nods and sips her coffee again. "So," she says after another few moments pass, "why are you in Paris Andrea?"

"Work. I'm writing an exposé on something," Andy shrugs, not wanting to offer up any more. "I assume you're here for Paris Fashion Week?"

"Yes," Miranda responds and looks in her cup of coffee as if it held something of great importance.

"Still with Runway then," Andrea comments.

Miranda doesn't respond. Andy studies her for a moment, and then shakes her head, scoffing slightly. Miranda snaps her head up.

"What?" she says.

"You're unbelievable..." the brunette trails off and shakes her head, looking out the window at the rain falling. "Nevermind."

"Andrea, I-"

"We've already discussed this," Andy holds up her hand. "It's in the past."

"I'm sorry Andrea," Miranda says quietly, and she looks Andy in the eyes. Her heart aches when she sees the pain in the chocolate brown eyes she loves so much. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it better," Andrea sighs and looks down in her coffee mug. "You just couldn't keep your hands to yourself." She pauses and looks back up at the woman sitting across from her. "You've lost me Miranda. Let's just leave it at that."

Miranda's grip tightens on her coffee and her lips purse, but she says nothing else.

"How are Caroline and Cassidy?" Andrea asks.

"Fine," Miranda manages to say. "Caroline is going to college in New York while Cassidy is going to study abroad in Italy."

"That's great," Andrea tucks a long piece of brown hair behind her ear and studies Miranda. She doesn't look like she's aged a day since Andy has last seen her. She looks the same as she did five years ago. There are some wrinkles that have appeared on her face, but they don't detract from the Editor's beauty.

"What?" Miranda pins her with ice-blue eyes.

"Nothing," Andrea smiles slightly. "You look beautiful."

"You do as well," Miranda's eyes roam quickly over her body and she unconsciously gives a tiny nod.

"Thank you," Andrea takes another sip of her coffee.

They sit in silence again, but neither woman really minding. The coffee is running out though, so Andy gets up and orders more. Miranda watches her and feels her heart ache when she realizes what she gave up. Schooling her features before the brunette returns, she pushes down her feelings and hands out her hand for Andrea to put the coffee into. When their fingers don't brush, Miranda tries not to let her disappointment show. She has an overwhelming urge to touch the brunette again, but Andy had made it clear that she never wanted the Editor's touch again. Swallowing a scalding sip of coffee, Miranda almost spits it back out again when she sees the ring on Andrea's fourth finger. Her eyes narrow and she ignores the vicious stab in her heart. Being an Editor of a prestigious fashion magazine, her job requires a sharp eye for detail, no matter how minuscule it is. Apparently that skill fails her when she's in the presence of Andrea after such a long time.

"What is that?" Miranda says in an icy voice and waves her hand in the general direction of the ring.

Andrea blinks and looks down at her hand as if seeing it for the first time. Then her whole expression transforms. A soft smile graces her face as she looks at the simple yet beautiful band. "I'm married Miranda."

Those three words almost shatter the normally composed Editor. "Married?" she repeats dumbly.

"Yes," Andrea says gently, as if she's afraid of spooking Miranda. "To a wonderful man. His name is Max Harrison."

"Max Harrison." She repeats again and feels faint-she needs to get out of there. Abruptly, Miranda stands up and Andrea follows suit, looking alarmed. "Hey, are you ok?"

Miranda ignores her and strides out of the café, not even caring that the rain just ruined her Gucci purse and Jimmy Choo pumps. Rain plasters to her face, mixing with the tears streaming down her face and she blindly stumbles away. _Away. Away, away, away. From Andrea. And Max._ She crashes into a soft body, and is about to deliver a scathing remark before the person gripping her forearms shouts at her.

"Miranda!"

She looks up and finds herself looking straight into Andrea's eyes. Remembering Andrea's final words to her, she yanks herself back and tries to put distance between them. Andrea has apparently forgotten that she never wanted to touch the older woman again, because she steps closer, placing her hands gently on Miranda's forearms again. The Editor tries to get a grip on her emotions. It normally isn't like her to react so deeply, letting her tears show for the world to see. But Andrea is different. Andrea was-_is_ _everything._ Andy wasn't the fool in the situation. _She_ was. Miranda lets out a choked sob and tries to calm herself. The rain falls on her hard, and she's grateful for it. Maybe Andrea won't notice that much of the wetness on Miranda's face are her own tears.

"Miranda," Andrea says quietly and gently runs her hands up and down the older woman's arms. She doesn't know what to say, so she just steps even closer and embraces the other woman. To anybody walking by, it would look like a lover's hug. Miranda understands the difference though. This hug is to comfort-nothing else. When Andrea loved her, she would embrace her fully and press delicate kisses to the side of her neck and face. How could she have given up Andrea? The woman who gave love so freely and cared so deeply? Miranda allows herself to have a few moments of weakness in Andrea's arms before pulling away and wiping angrily at her tears. The rain is falling gentler now, and Miranda lets out a big, shuddering sigh.

"Are you ok?" Andrea looks at her with compassion in her eyes.

"No, but I will be," Miranda wipes her eyes again, cursing her weakness.

"Okay," Andrea looks at her for a moment, and then nods.

"Okay," Miranda echoes, and strangely, her heart feels lighter after crying. She had screwed up majorly, and there was nothing she could do to change it, but at least she now knows that there is some hope for her and Andrea to reconnect. The brunette doesn't hate her. There is still hope for their relationship, even if it's purely platonic.

A shrilling ring cuts the silent air, and both women jump before Andrea reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out her phone. Flipping it open, she says, "Yeah?….I got caught up in the rain-I'll be there shortly….Yes….Ok. I'll see you soon. Thanks." She looks at Miranda and smiles ruefully. "I apologize Miranda, but I am needed at my meeting now."

"Fine," Miranda says, because really, what else can she say? She can't force the brunette to spend time with her. She turns away, but is stopped by a gentle pressure on her arm.

"Hey," Andrea turns Miranda back to face herself and gives her a real smile that comes from the heart. "It was good to see you Miranda."

"It was good to see you too Andrea," Miranda gazes into doe-like eyes and smiles back.

Andrea moves in closer, and Miranda's breath hitches. A familiar set of plump lips brushes against her cheek, making the older woman's lashes flutter briefly before the moment is over. Andrea cups Miranda's face and gives her another small smile.

"Au revoir Miranda," she says quietly before turning and walking away.

Miranda lets herself smile. "Until we meet again Andrea," she murmurs.

She watches the tall brunette walk away before she turns away herself. Before she continues on her journey though, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small bottle of perfume and sprays it on herself. Inhaling the beautiful scent, Miranda is filled with hope. Shaking her head when she remembers she once gave this perfume to Caroline, she places it back in her purse almost reverently, and starts walking in the opposite direction, the sun shining on her silver-white hair.

**Thanks for reading. If you wanted a happy ending-don't worry. I'll post the chapter sometime next week. **


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